


No Turning Back

by Annie46fic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Season 6 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-16
Updated: 2011-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-23 19:32:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annie46fic/pseuds/Annie46fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was always inevitability to this, a realization that they would always come together, that they wouldn’t be able to resist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Turning Back

The minute his brother put his mouth on him Sam knew he was done.

He figured he should be more surprised, more disgusted but he just felt as if this was the way it had been going for years; maybe since the time Dean picked him up from Stanford, maybe even before then. His thoughts fragmented as he gasped, looking down his body to where Dean was kneeling, leather jacket still on, face beaded in sweat, cheeks pink. Sam moved his hands, wrapped his fingers around Dean’s head and held on.

****

He couldn’t quite remember when this started; his eggs were, as Dean put it, _scrambled_ and more so since Castiel brought the wall tumbling down. He recalled fighting with himself, struggling inside his own head and then walking, stumbling towards the address Dean had given him, brain fried, body weak, senses spinning. He felt the angel sword go through Castiel’s skin, saw Cas look at him, pitying, head to one side in that familiar gesture. He had a fuzzy recollection of Dean grabbing his arms, pulling him out of there, of Bobby helping, his arms slung around their shoulders. He had felt Dean’s face against his own, the dampness of his brother’s skin, the taste of salt telling him that Dean had been weeping.

They had made it back to Bobby’s; Dean had made him lie down, close his eyes, even though he hadn’t wanted to, even though every image that went through his head was painful, hurtful, and distressing. Dean gave him whiskey that night and it had been his choice of medication since but that wasn’t why this thing between them had gotten out of control, that wasn’t why he was here now, back against the wall, Dean’s beautiful mouth working him like a pro, seemingly knowing what Sam wanted and needed, what to do to make Sam whimper and squirm.

****

Sam felt as if they would never stop hunting; felt as if there would always be something out there to kill, always be a big bad; first it was the demon, then Lilith, then Lucifer himself and now – now it was their old friend and it made the fact that they would have to destroy Cas even more painful and harder than usual.

For the first few weeks after the wall had come down Sam had been mostly out of it; now he was able to control it better, able to block out the memories. They scared him, scared him far more than his visions ever had and he woke screaming most nights; Dean crouched beside him, comforting him, stroking his face and his hair. It was during one of these sessions that the kissing started; Dean’s lips moving from a chaste peck on the forehead to full on tongue action. Sam had seen his brother with women and knew what a sexual being he could be but to have experience of it was different and not totally unexpected.

They kissed for hours; made out on the couch, bodies pressed up against one another, hands in each others hair. The smell of sex and sweat was pungent and heady and it made Sam forget more than whiskey ever did, more than medication. What they were doing was wrong but it didn’t seem to matter; they had been to heaven and hell both and there wasn’t many other places left for them to go now. All the time there was a piece of Sam’s brain that was screaming _‘No’_ but his body ignored it, cock hard in his jeans, wanting. They had done so much, both together and apart, and to each other that incest seemed fairly mild in comparison. He wanted Dean badly and he hoped that his brother wouldn’t stop, even though the sensible part of him, the part that was fading into the background, was praying that he would.

****

Tonight things had changed, taken another turn; Sam had been dozing on Bobby’s old couch listening to the rain outside, trying to keep his mind on nothing more than the slow patter of water, the flapping of Bobby’s threadbare curtains. He had found himself starting to drift, hell memories stealing in before he could stop them, a scream on his lips before he could call it back.

Dean was there then; up in his face, hauling him from the couch and pressing him against the wall; there was no kissing this time, just Sam’s jeans pulled down, his cock tugged from the confines of his boxers, Dean on his knees, mouth around his aching length, no words, no explanation, no need.

The minute his brother put his mouth on him Sam knew he was done; there was no guilt, no fear, no hell creeping in. Just green eyes, a soft mouth and a big brother who was trying to say, _I love you_ the only way he knew how. The wall might be broken but Dean knew a thing or two about repairs and Sam – Sam was in it for the long haul. Tomorrow, he mused, as he let go completely and came with a shout – tomorrow he would return the favor.

End


End file.
